


Adventures in Roleplay

by terminallybored



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (not the LARP-ing kind), Domestic Fluff, Erica is an agent of chaos, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Roleplay, discussions of kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminallybored/pseuds/terminallybored
Summary: Brunch turns ugly. Derek didn't even know brunch was capable of turning ugly. Finding out your sex life is judged as boring can spoil any event, though.





	Adventures in Roleplay

Brunch is kind of a weird thing. It involves too much melon for Derek’s taste, and Stiles is not a fan of waiting until 10:30 to consume plates of breakfast food on a Sunday. But brunch is a thing that couples do, particularly when wedding planning is happening. Erica, planning a wedding as she is, needs someone besides Boyd to listen to her complain about stuff. Since Derek and Stiles are gunning for the role of godparents, brunch is their monthly form of sucking up.

Derek smells the alarm on Stiles while he’s browsing the menu, then feels the frantic elbow digging at his ribs. When he looks up, Erica is at the entrance door of the cafe, Boyd on one arm and a gift bag with tufts of white paper sticking out.

“Hey,” Stiles hisses. “Is it someone’s birthday? A holiday? Why does she have a gift? We don’t have a gift!”

“I don’t know why she has a gift!” Derek whispers, equally perturbed. Dammit, they’re probably dropping below Isaac in the godparents race if they forgot a gift-giving occasion.

“Figure it out, quick!” Stiles whispers. “We’ll say we forgot hers. Just figure it out before she- Hi Erica!” Stiles sits up straight and feigns a look of absolute assurance. “Happy-” He looks at Derek, elbowing him again under the table.

Derek opens his mouth to help salvage the situation. Then closes it. Shakes his head. “I got nothing.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t even try,” Stiles groans.

“It’s just a present,” Erica says, apparently feeling merciful. “Both of you stop looking so panicked.”

Stiles snatches the bag. “I wasn’t panicked. I was… surprised. I like presents.”

“Then hurry up and open it.” Erica sets her thick white binder on the table as Boyd pulls her chair out for her. “I need to tell you about the caterer who won’t fill orders that don’t include a vegetarian option. I wanted to bring the fangs out on her just to make a point.”

“Erica,” Derek starts, puffing his chest out a little.

“I didn’t, Mr. Alpha, so simmer down.” Erica plucks the drink menu Boyd offers her.

“She didn’t,” he confirms.

“Now open your present. I want a mimosa.”

Stiles, who has never needed a ton of encouragement when presents are involved, digs into the bag. White tissue paper floats away from his savagery and settles on the tiles below. Derek retrieves them (because they’re civilized people, aside from Stiles, and don’t trash up restaurants) and sits back up just as Stiles hefts a thick book with a bright blue cover out of the bag.

“ _69 Really Raunchy Roleplays_ ,” Stiles reads, blinking at the large white letters on the cover. The ‘6’ has a pair of handcuffs dangling from the loop. The first ‘l’ in ‘Roleplay' is a ruler. “Wait, is this a sex thing?”

Erica gives him a look of pity. “Yes, Stiles. It’s a sex thing. It’s not a D&D manual.”

“We don’t need a sex thing!” Stiles stuffs the book back into the bag and pushes it at Boyd. “Oh my god, why would you think we needed that??”

Erica reaches across Boyd and pushes the bag firmly back into Stiles’ arms. “Oh come on. All you’ve brought to the table at Girls’ Night for the past 3 weeks are stories about fighting elves.”

“Maybe because ‘So how are things with Derek?’ warrants a mention about how we held back an invasion by the Unseelie Court.” Stiles crosses his arms. “You’re welcome, by the way, for keeping all of you safe.”

* * *

 

“We’re not using this thing,” Stiles says, nose-deep in the offending book as Derek drives them home.

“Then why are you reading it?”

“Because I wanted to confirm that it’s really stupid. And it totally is.” Stiles skips several pages further in. “Oh my god, this is so cliché! I can’t wait to burn this book.”

“Good. I’ll fix the incinerator just for the occasion,” Derek makes a grab for the book. Stiles squirms in his seat and turns sideways, smashing himself against the window to protect it. “Stiles. Give it.”

“No, I wanna see if it has a scenario for fucking a basement monster. We can use it while you’re fixing the incinerator,” Stiles says petulantly, flipping through the pages rapidly. They catch on the collar of his plaid overshirt from the way he’s folded himself around that stupid, completely unnecessary thing. “I bet it does. Except that’s probably too creative. What’s a boring thing to fuck in a basement? It probably has that.”

“Stop reading it,” Derek growls.

“I’m just reading it so I can tell Erica how stupid it is!” Stiles glares over his shoulder at him. “It’s gonna take like, a week to fix that hunk of junk in the basement. I can at least read it.”

“I was being facetious. We can just burn it in a trash can.”

“Uh uh. You promised me the incinerator. I want this thing to get the biggest middle finger send-off imaginable.” Stiles shoves his nose right back into the book and Derek sighs.

* * *

 

“Is this like… a normal thing?” Stiles asks, dropping the book onto the table, making Derek’s coffee quiver in his mug.

“To Erica, probably.” Derek pushes the cereal box over to his mate. He’s one day out from getting that book on building renovation with a chapter on restoring incinerators to working condition. Amazon Prime better come through on this one. Stiles has already been poking at the thing for two days. And getting weirdly sulky.

Stiles sits down and looks at the box of cereal. Then at his bowl. He picks up his spoon and taps it absently against the side of the bowl.

“Cereal tends to function better outside the box,” Derek finally says.

“Wanna fuck me on the table?” Stiles offers, making Derek miss his bowl entirely with his spoon.

“Uh… I hadn’t planned on it,” he says. “Do you want me to?”

Stiles sighs heavily. “No. I want to have breakfast,” he says, a whine in his voice like the admission is killing him. “Derek, are we boring?”

“Having breakfast doesn’t make us boring.” Derek grabs the box and dumps a mound of sugary flakes into the bowl.

“Are we vanilla?” Stiles asks, taking the plastic milk jug foisted off on him.

“Isn’t inter-species sex already more kinky than pretending to fuck a teacher?”

Stiles considers it, and he perks up a little. “Yeah. You’re totally right. Erica is the boring one, just having sex with another werewolf. How pedestrian.”

Derek doesn’t miss that his mate still takes that damn book with him when he goes back to the bedroom to get dressed. Once Stiles is finally out the door, already on the phone and imploring Scott to bring him coffee as if he didn’t just drink two cups, Derek makes a beeline for the computer.

Maybe Amazon will just sell him the damn incinerator instead.


End file.
